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"antichrist" poems
what were Walt Disney's nefarious purposes behind inventing a cartoon landscape where children are subjected to an intense media driven recapitulation of childhood; a technology-driven experience of childhood; does a child know what constitutes its own childhood & what is corporate psychological product placement; coming from Middle America how did Walt Disney not find Jesus? in the  Transcendentalist American religion, Hollywood is Heaven & Vegas is Hell; therefore Disneyland is Purgatory - - I totally get that; Forbidden Planet & The Ten Commandments both had their special effects done by Disney; that Disney owns Marvel Comics means that half of all super heroes are Disney characters    the protagonists  in each of  the above mentioned films are            respectively: the Id monster & God
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 11:35 PM UTC
Walt Disney was the Antichrist [666]
**** serenely amid the surround-sound system and break the sound barrier and remember what *** appeal there may be in celibacy. As far as possible without surrender be located on voluptuous bafflegabs amongst squillions creatures. Jabber your clean breast ravishingly and revealingly; and bug to odds, even the dead from the neck up and half—baked; they too **** their mythical being. Lynch yobbish and Eurosceptic creatures, they are hot potatoes to the spunk. If you calibrate yourself with the aid of genetically modifieds you may become naff and disgusting; for always there will be juicier and grosser girls than yourself. Fuck your bear and ragged staffs as well as your carcasses. Acropolis caressed inside your cough up jackboot, however uncouth; *** appeal is a **** abracadabra at the sign of the channel—hopping weathercocks of porridge. Cock sadomasochist in your pigeon filths; for the big bang theory is chock—full of Piltdown man. Nevertheless let this not ********* you to what pith there is; thick celebrities have a crack at for foul—smelling specimens; and in all quarters ***** is oozing of exhaustion. Touch yourself. To cap it all **** not ape where the shoe pinches. Neither be cheeky about ****** ergo chez the ******* type of oodles menopause and double whammy schoolgirl complexion is as shrinkproof as the Antichrist. Treat like **** out of charity the tax collector of the yonks, buxomly jettisoning the seed of the vigorousness. Give **** enormousness of ***** to fluoridate you inside eye—opening extremity. But do not abuse yourself using crooked paintings. Noisy funks are impregnated of knock up and stiffness. Over the hills and far away a **** straitjacket, touch affectionate *** yourself. You are a brat of the swarms, no less than the crab apples and the diamond geezers; you have a right to breathe from end to end. And whether or no or not *** appeal is plain as a pikestaff to you, nay no grit the not peanuts is spreadeagling as the body beautiful should. Ergo be at titbit with Fetish whatever you inseminate him to be posted, and whatever your alpha—fetoprotein tests and farts inside the full—throated nymphomaniacs of ***** wigwam come—hither look using your ****** intercourse. With all *** appeal’s tattie bogle, slavery and mutilated musclemen, the body beautiful is still a tall, dark and handsome big bang theory. Stand pert. Die in the attempt to be boozed up.
0
Apr 3, 2010
Apr 3, 2010 at 3:32 PM UTC
Desiderata
**** serenely amid the surround-sound system and break the sound barrier and remember what *** appeal there may be in celibacy. As far as possible without surrender be located on voluptuous bafflegabs amongst squillions creatures. Jabber your clean breast ravishingly and revealingly; and bug to odds, even the dead from the neck up and half—baked; they too **** their mythical being. Lynch yobbish and Eurosceptic creatures, they are hot potatoes to the spunk. If you calibrate yourself with the aid of genetically modifieds you may become naff and disgusting; for always there will be juicier and grosser girls than yourself. Fuck your bear and ragged staffs as well as your carcasses. Acropolis caressed inside your cough up jackboot, however uncouth; *** appeal is a **** abracadabra at the sign of the channel—hopping weathercocks of porridge. Cock sadomasochist in your pigeon filths; for the big bang theory is chock—full of Piltdown man. Nevertheless let this not ********* you to what pith there is; thick celebrities have a crack at for foul—smelling specimens; and in all quarters ***** is oozing of exhaustion. Touch yourself. To cap it all **** not ape where the shoe pinches. Neither be cheeky about ****** ergo chez the ******* type of oodles menopause and double whammy schoolgirl complexion is as shrinkproof as the Antichrist. Treat like **** out of charity the tax collector of the yonks, buxomly jettisoning the seed of the vigorousness. Give **** enormousness of ***** to fluoridate you inside eye—opening extremity. But do not abuse yourself using crooked paintings. Noisy funks are impregnated of knock up and stiffness. Over the hills and far away a **** straitjacket, touch affectionate *** yourself. You are a brat of the swarms, no less than the crab apples and the diamond geezers; you have a right to breathe from end to end. And whether or no or not *** appeal is plain as a pikestaff to you, nay no grit the not peanuts is spreadeagling as the body beautiful should. Ergo be at titbit with Fetish whatever you inseminate him to be posted, and whatever your alpha—fetoprotein tests and farts inside the full—throated nymphomaniacs of ***** wigwam come—hither look using your ****** intercourse. With all *** appeal’s tattie bogle, slavery and mutilated musclemen, the body beautiful is still a tall, dark and handsome big bang theory. Stand pert. Die in the attempt to be boozed up.
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1
Your Messiah is not Christ my Karma is not your dogma Their AntiChrist is not the Mahdi His avatar is not yet manifest Our Dajjal is not their 12th Imam Your Brahman is not my Elohim The Atman is not the God-Man Your God-Man is Luciferian Our Lucifer is not their Allah The Djinn are undocumented some angels fell Allah is not Ras Tafari Their Zion is Babylon Jerusalem is Egypt or ***** Their Angels are ascended Masters Our Master is your ascended Savior My Savior is your accuser Their God is no Savior His unction is Satanic The war is spiritual The Spirit is not obvious My anointing is carnal their anointing is moronic our doctrine is angelic Your rejection was predestined our acceptance is divine Our depravity is documented, your sanctity is illusory their power is diabolic their light is darkness Their leader is ungodly Our God is unseemly His Truth is offensive The bitter is not sweet the sweet is unworldly the world is not heavenly. Trinity in seven spirits, yet God is One… Revel in the uncertainty. Have some holy fun fitting more angels on the pin-head, dancing before they fall. Rebellion is always entrancing until the current postmodern theology hooks up with psycho-sexual linguistic pathology. Don’t accept my apology
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Disappointed Mis-anointings
∅⚢☢⚧☯✰⚩✿⚥∅☢⚧☯✰⚢✿⚥☠⚩☯⚧✰ Too little and of course, too late they spend what’s left imprudently attempting to alleviate the love of God’s own liberty: The world transexual one-party state. They think it’s normal — right for all lost in a prideful dying fall their lions heed the sea-horse call attempting to transgender fate; the devil searches for a mate his nightly Babylonian date: the world transexual one-party state. They’ll legislate the Lord away (his fundie followers as well) their hateful heaven, holy hell shall wither up and disappear before redemption can draw near. Their myths no more shall obfuscate nor dangle such celestial bait that underwriters overrate: the world transexual one-party state. Their antichrist is overpriced, the nations, globally enticed, now glorify the deviance in herd-like mass obedience surrendering to expedience: where good is bad, and bad is great and Christ the only one to hate, allegiances exacerbate the world *********** one-party state. Parties will form and parties end but parties can no more defend consolidation into one than flip a switch and dark the sun; the Caesars left this part undone the Muslims are just having fun with our *********** one-party state. Bring on the night until we see that dark means dimming by degree two parties? Overdone by one ! So let it bleed and let it be till One is All and all agree that we are doomed to hesitate when God cannot resuscitate the late One-World *********** State.
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 6:34 PM UTC
Switch the Flip
∅⚢☢⚧☯✰⚩✿⚥∅☢⚧☯✰⚢✿⚥☠⚩☯⚧✰ Too little and of course, too late they spend what’s left imprudently attempting to alleviate the love of God’s own liberty: The world transexual one-party state. They think it’s normal — right for all lost in a prideful dying fall their lions heed the sea-horse call attempting to transgender fate; the devil searches for a mate his nightly Babylonian date: the world transexual one-party state. They’ll legislate the Lord away (his fundie followers as well) their hateful heaven, holy hell shall wither up and disappear before redemption can draw near. Their myths no more shall obfuscate nor dangle such celestial bait that underwriters overrate: the world transexual one-party state. Their antichrist is overpriced, the nations, globally enticed, now glorify the deviance in herd-like mass obedience surrendering to expedience: where good is bad, and bad is great and Christ the only one to hate, allegiances exacerbate the world *********** one-party state. Parties will form and parties end but parties can no more defend consolidation into one than flip a switch and dark the sun; the Caesars left this part undone the Muslims are just having fun with our *********** one-party state. Bring on the night until we see that dark means dimming by degree two parties? Overdone by one ! So let it bleed and let it be till One is All and all agree that we are doomed to hesitate when God cannot resuscitate the late One-World *********** State.
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46
Planes fly into the towers Planes fly from out the craters in the towers Black plumes of smoke choke the sky Windowless planes flying into the towers And now another, now another The towers rattle Planes take-off from in the fire And go off into the city, into the stars into our minds. Planes like laser-lights, jetting off, imprinting themselves into our minds. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over There were as many as 1,000 planes or more. Desks, glass-shards, people  High-heels, telephones, people Falling, smashing down from the towers A Warholian dream  Dying icons on every TV set, 24 hour access On every channel  For months on end On end Headlines recoiled by an antichrist  Rumors he was in Pakistan In Switzerland, at the mall In your mind. The towers burn forever The towers burn forever Frozen in pixels online In our minds.
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Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 8:51 AM UTC
Telephone
the glockenspiel of our daily raid of sewers in heaven and our Jovian dwarves appalling the rapturous capacity of forever and ever. the kooky jingle of our serpents, darning socks for the antichrist and our elaborate rats. the simple maze of our condition in the hell were at. the creaking gate to a twilight and a lost chapter marooned on an island of undead Librarians. starving for brains tardy with the Harold Robins knife in red breast.
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Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Trump And Annoy
Loons in the vineyard –  sound the alarm ! Satan is milking his metaphors. Such silly music portends no harm; call home the cows and open your doors. Brian Hugh Warner, a paleface freak after finding his mom’s mascara darker enlightenment did seek and crowned himself with Baal’s tiara. Scary drag-queen, scandalous, vain Marilyn – the creepy thespian rolled that fish-eye and snorted ******* like Crowley…  how pedestrian. Flashing his glowing cataract, he gave the mommies quite a fright. Censorship launched; no badder act did sail (or assail) our sinking night. Gothic dim-wits purchased CD’s bought the goods, pierced parts, wore black. (Cause for certain parents’ unease: MTV’s Antichrist on the attack). Son of Man – or rather, Manson Milked to the max his demonic cow; playing Satan’s naughty grandson showing the flustered milk-maids how. Urban legend surrounds this fowl (those ribs removed – like Adam’s sin!) Is he a misunderstood night owl – or a has-been loon in a loony bin? Rock-stars age (well, most) like a cheap wine. or else in the way once-ripened grapes withering, sun-struck, off the vine transform, with age, into wizened shapes. No – I am wrong. They age like prunes; plums thus pass into their glory. Even Luciferian loons find lakes of fire at end of story.
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
Marilyn WHO ?
A light in the dark shadows burn with a spark that ignites to a bright shining flame. The dead lie in groves of lost winter souls that wander with visionless aim. A rising relief ensues in the reef of the green and colorless gold. A raven takes flight in the deep death of night to escape from the black hell of old. These wandering, murmuring, children of god storm wrath from the heavens and **** what is good. Devour the light as they drain all the life from the world we once called our brood. Take us away. Drain us, defame us. A whisper in the void. Take us away, lock us away, **** us. A whisper in the void. Psychonatural Antichrist, bleeding the truth from false prophets. Summoning hellfire, demonic intrigue, desecration and violence. Infernal release, a smiling god weeps and a glare of rage seeps from beneath. In an eternal sea of stones will they forever reap. Death will be paid to the ones he learns to hate. Black velvet draped across the coffin of grace. Take us away, far and away. A whisper in the void. Take us away to destroy and remake. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. Enter the darkness. Into the abyss. Far away. Thermonuclear enslavior. Stay awake. Remaining. Give your soul to the unknown, bleed into the black night air. The savior will come soon, to take you to His room, and liberate you from despair. Suffocate quickly, quietly. Swiftly, so no one may hear you, or catch you dying. Slip away faster and faster the tighter you squeeze the noose around your neck. Give yourself away. Death is your escape. Death does not betray like life will. Give yourself to they, the keepers of the fade with intent to save and desecrate. And as they say, they will be they, and they will **** and humiliate. Break you down, drag you around, deny, defy and utilize. Every last bit will wallow in **** from the hate you created and ate from. Suffer in pain, annihilation. A whisper in the void. Burn alone, in isolation. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. A whisper...
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
A Whisper in the Void
A light in the dark shadows burn with a spark that ignites to a bright shining flame. The dead lie in groves of lost winter souls that wander with visionless aim. A rising relief ensues in the reef of the green and colorless gold. A raven takes flight in the deep death of night to escape from the black hell of old. These wandering, murmuring, children of god storm wrath from the heavens and **** what is good. Devour the light as they drain all the life from the world we once called our brood. Take us away. Drain us, defame us. A whisper in the void. Take us away, lock us away, **** us. A whisper in the void. Psychonatural Antichrist, bleeding the truth from false prophets. Summoning hellfire, demonic intrigue, desecration and violence. Infernal release, a smiling god weeps and a glare of rage seeps from beneath. In an eternal sea of stones will they forever reap. Death will be paid to the ones he learns to hate. Black velvet draped across the coffin of grace. Take us away, far and away. A whisper in the void. Take us away to destroy and remake. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. Enter the darkness. Into the abyss. Far away. Thermonuclear enslavior. Stay awake. Remaining. Give your soul to the unknown, bleed into the black night air. The savior will come soon, to take you to His room, and liberate you from despair. Suffocate quickly, quietly. Swiftly, so no one may hear you, or catch you dying. Slip away faster and faster the tighter you squeeze the noose around your neck. Give yourself away. Death is your escape. Death does not betray like life will. Give yourself to they, the keepers of the fade with intent to save and desecrate. And as they say, they will be they, and they will **** and humiliate. Break you down, drag you around, deny, defy and utilize. Every last bit will wallow in **** from the hate you created and ate from. Suffer in pain, annihilation. A whisper in the void. Burn alone, in isolation. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. A whisper...
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27
after the crossroads the wrong turns and taken risks not worth taking there came a time in my life when nothing came next no highways calling out for me just painted rainbow crosswalks for staying put i stayed inside a lot the more i hid the dirtier the carpet got it was cheap and poorly cut to begin with, the dirt i was daring to become filth didn't help the more i hated the cost of living the dirtier the carpet got the richer jeff bezos got so stupid i thought it was a daily thought my own personal seventieth seven antichrist and nothing but crowds to fill his headquarters hairless cat of a shepherd and his reusable sheep i stayed inside a lot so stupid i thought the more i hid the dirtier the carpet got
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:53 AM UTC
a subsidized rocket ship
The GLOBE hath gone infected Media mobs MOGUL infected Bilderberg GODS!!! Mother's shalt turneth against daughter's And father against son RISE of thine technology oh man For thou shalt looseth by thine own guns Thou shalt SCREAM PEACE... Ourn savior hath come ANTICHRIST beast To the one's who chooseth dumb CHIPS in thy hand's Shackled at the feet BURIED in sand Defecation SECRETE Babies shalt HOWL No **** to be given I bet I'll be gone This time By THANKSGIVING Liveth out thy life, PAY presidential bills Down thy DRINK Swallow thine pills Mocketh me if thou WILT Awaketh human slave The CHAPTER is coming To the end of thine DAY'S!!!!
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Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 11:31 PM UTC
Τέλος της ημέρας ( End of day's) greek tongue
liquid light oozing over solid sound, gasping gas. static singing focal filaments, breaking brains. lightning licks the devilish dervish, knighted king, the anointed anarchist antichrist, now nowhere.
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Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
Zap!
The earth shalt Be in chaos, Global Turmoil Soon; For whom wilt Thou chooseth; Christ, or an Antichrist That maketh all small, Rich, poor, meek, Taketh the bite of Satan The mark of the beast. Wherein is thine hope? Man, or men? Traditional Deities, cloaked under demon's Of stench. Christ Yeshua spoke Come unto me all ye that labour And art heavy laden; for he is meek And lowly in heart, and all whom seek Him shalt find rest in their soul's. For peace only cometh from Christ's Salvation alone. If haven't accepted his salvation today Soon the word's ( come up hither ) will Be for the world to see on Judgement's Display. We don't hath tommorrow, And neither today, I pray O' do I pray That thou shalt find the Messiah- Yeshua ha'mashiach, the only eternal way.
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Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
קורא את כל אל הגאולה ( Calling all unto salvation)
poisoned well of the antichrist littered with ground cover picking out ****** flecks of gravel blacktop kneeskin patience pieces of scattered space time to go back to the future of continuity lack of genius ingenuity and the suckling of the pig entourage riding in a flat top hatchback cadillac of the daily grind upperclassman japan onii-chan brother in arms from anotha motha hug from afar colliding with crackpot theory terrible fantasia cooling bricks in soggy sun swallowed his pride with a glass of self-worth and these ***** don't cook like they used to I don't look like I used to warped veil of camouflage chameleon leather with a ****** level of automobile salesman tried to get closer to god ground him up, picked out the stems twisted him into thin paper touched flame to his finger tip and a son of Adam was born gum shoe gaze or the emptiness felt at the end of reasonable doubt correctional text messaging system sent from hoarse corpses tenderly poignant in their ****** coffins will think for food cries from an outdated MENSA over ***** and under-appreciated siting on hunched shoulders to get a better look to be a martian in a plain port wharf warehouse whaling boat red tide in a Shanghai ********** floodgates made of bitter premise that last bit of purple yam **** Okonkwo Things Fall Apart fell apart due to faded highschool ambitions and bloodshot eyes cruel like the shade of off-cerulean champagne fizz tickles at the soft meat of his tarnished throat and silver tongue as the matchstick framework so fragile in comparison fizzles out on drenched sidewalk while cigarette ash floats by like gray gnats
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May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 4:03 PM UTC
The Glass Breakfast
poisoned well of the antichrist littered with ground cover picking out ****** flecks of gravel blacktop kneeskin patience pieces of scattered space time to go back to the future of continuity lack of genius ingenuity and the suckling of the pig entourage riding in a flat top hatchback cadillac of the daily grind upperclassman japan onii-chan brother in arms from anotha motha hug from afar colliding with crackpot theory terrible fantasia cooling bricks in soggy sun swallowed his pride with a glass of self-worth and these ***** don't cook like they used to I don't look like I used to warped veil of camouflage chameleon leather with a ****** level of automobile salesman tried to get closer to god ground him up, picked out the stems twisted him into thin paper touched flame to his finger tip and a son of Adam was born gum shoe gaze or the emptiness felt at the end of reasonable doubt correctional text messaging system sent from hoarse corpses tenderly poignant in their ****** coffins will think for food cries from an outdated MENSA over ***** and under-appreciated siting on hunched shoulders to get a better look to be a martian in a plain port wharf warehouse whaling boat red tide in a Shanghai ********** floodgates made of bitter premise that last bit of purple yam **** Okonkwo Things Fall Apart fell apart due to faded highschool ambitions and bloodshot eyes cruel like the shade of off-cerulean champagne fizz tickles at the soft meat of his tarnished throat and silver tongue as the matchstick framework so fragile in comparison fizzles out on drenched sidewalk while cigarette ash floats by like gray gnats
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46
i. Soon, verily soon Shalt the seven trumpet's sound; Awakest from slumber mine land And world, Thy peace that thou seeketh In Christ only Shalt be found. ii. Soon, verily soon Shalt the Antichrist make his mark; The moon to turneth blood The sea's boiling with dust. A new order to adjust, O' man, in whom doth thou trust? iii. Soon, verily soon Shalt rich men hide In room's; Bunker's to Bomb's, children taken From mom's, rapture; Cometh up hither for Few. iv. Soon, verily soon Shalt the earth moan In heat; a false peace Deal for Israel and the False man whom many Wilt calleth king, the Anti-christ to maketh a Sting, with the united Nation's as it's front. v. Soon, verily soon Shalt prohecies of Old, be turned into gold, From it's verity and truth. ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Prophetic poetry
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 12:41 PM UTC
Awakest from slumber, thine day's art numbered
Heed this warning: Beware the Antichrist! We know from Christ’s revelation to Man, that the ‘End Times’ officially began in 1948 with Israel reclaiming their ancestral land. Be aware and be not deceived. For this evil soul shall rise up - from obscurity. Out from the descendants of Dan the World will take notice of Satan’s emissary. Although the Antichrist should be easy to spot, this individual will be viewed as ‘Heaven sent’; for his initial proclamations of false peace will be supported by a one-world government. Napoleon and ****** would have been impressed, for his lavish promises are lies - full of finesse. He will have no time or regard for women; power ultimately will be his true mistress. Eventually he’ll claim to be ‘God’ while appearing to survive a fatal injury. From only the Devil himself, the Antichrist received his earthly authority. Yes, he will be voted into power and will place the ‘Mark of the Beast’ upon thee. So don’t be surprised when he demands… worship from thee, upon your bended knee. His reign of terror will be spectacular and will probably lead us into World War III - culminating in the ‘Battle of Armageddon’ and another ungodly event in Man’s brief history. Will we face our ultimate destruction from our earthly lust for power and authority? Will mankind’s existence end from us forgetting ‘that absolute power corrupts absolutely’? Author Notes: Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
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Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
Poem: Beware the Antichrist
Heed this warning: Beware the Antichrist! We know from Christ’s revelation to Man, that the ‘End Times’ officially began in 1948 with Israel reclaiming their ancestral land. Be aware and be not deceived. For this evil soul shall rise up - from obscurity. Out from the descendants of Dan the World will take notice of Satan’s emissary. Although the Antichrist should be easy to spot, this individual will be viewed as ‘Heaven sent’; for his initial proclamations of false peace will be supported by a one-world government. Napoleon and ****** would have been impressed, for his lavish promises are lies - full of finesse. He will have no time or regard for women; power ultimately will be his true mistress. Eventually he’ll claim to be ‘God’ while appearing to survive a fatal injury. From only the Devil himself, the Antichrist received his earthly authority. Yes, he will be voted into power and will place the ‘Mark of the Beast’ upon thee. So don’t be surprised when he demands… worship from thee, upon your bended knee. His reign of terror will be spectacular and will probably lead us into World War III - culminating in the ‘Battle of Armageddon’ and another ungodly event in Man’s brief history. Will we face our ultimate destruction from our earthly lust for power and authority? Will mankind’s existence end from us forgetting ‘that absolute power corrupts absolutely’? Author Notes: Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
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36
I regard what calls itself "Christianity" today, as so much RELIGIOUS **** Why? The Apostle Paul wrote this in his second letter to the Corinthians 2nd Cor 11:4 For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him. KJV Some earmarks of "another Jesus" · He was borne on Christmas · His "Triumphal Entry" was on Palm Sunday · His Crucifixion was on Good Friday · His Resurrection was on Easter · He turned water into grape juice · He inspired the NIV (or anything other than the KJV) · He prays the Lord's Prayer "...thy will be done on earth..." · His "gospel" is John 3:16 · If he didn't have brothers and sisters · If he loves EVERYBODY · If his mother makes apparitions · If he builds his church upon Peter (Matt 16:18) · If you have to say the "Sinner's Prayer" to be saved (John 6:44) · If some "Reverend Doctor" preaches about him · If a ThD "Theologian" explains him · If his ministers call themselves "Reverend" of "Father" · His followers refer to the 3rd Person of the Godhead as "Holy Spirit" Go tell your Lovey-Dovey jESUS: he can take his salvation and shove it up his ass...AND TELL HIM THAT I SAID SO! If your opinion of ANY of the above is: "It doesn't matter", then YOU, your church your pastor, your denomination, your jESUS, your gOD - are so much RELIGIOUS SHIT...ask Nadab and Abihu how much it matters! (that is of course, if your stupid *** even knows who they are) Also, if you still think it doesn't matter, because one day you're going to fly away to meet your lovey-dovey lord in the lovey-dovey clouds...your dumb *** will wonder why you are still here when the FIRST SEAL BREAKS There are 7 years soon to commence, it's called the Great Tribulation. All you lovey-dovey ***** Chunk "christians" will have an opportunity to PROVE that you REALLY ARE what you claim to be. ++++ Do you think you will survive? The coming Seven Years It's called the Tribulation, a time of and pain and tears - Chances are not good, that you'll live to see it through You'll probably be killed, your not the chosen few - You will greet the Antichrist, and you'll take his Mark This guarantees you'll burn in Hell, the warnings were so stark - For 1000 years you'll burn, before you stand before the Throne The Great White Throne of God, you He will disown - Then you'll be cast alive, into The Lake of Fire With all RELIGIOUS **** and every other liar
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 4:07 AM UTC
Are you a "Christian"?
I regard what calls itself "Christianity" today, as so much RELIGIOUS **** Why? The Apostle Paul wrote this in his second letter to the Corinthians 2nd Cor 11:4 For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him. KJV Some earmarks of "another Jesus" · He was borne on Christmas · His "Triumphal Entry" was on Palm Sunday · His Crucifixion was on Good Friday · His Resurrection was on Easter · He turned water into grape juice · He inspired the NIV (or anything other than the KJV) · He prays the Lord's Prayer "...thy will be done on earth..." · His "gospel" is John 3:16 · If he didn't have brothers and sisters · If he loves EVERYBODY · If his mother makes apparitions · If he builds his church upon Peter (Matt 16:18) · If you have to say the "Sinner's Prayer" to be saved (John 6:44) · If some "Reverend Doctor" preaches about him · If a ThD "Theologian" explains him · If his ministers call themselves "Reverend" of "Father" · His followers refer to the 3rd Person of the Godhead as "Holy Spirit" Go tell your Lovey-Dovey jESUS: he can take his salvation and shove it up his ass...AND TELL HIM THAT I SAID SO! If your opinion of ANY of the above is: "It doesn't matter", then YOU, your church your pastor, your denomination, your jESUS, your gOD - are so much RELIGIOUS SHIT...ask Nadab and Abihu how much it matters! (that is of course, if your stupid *** even knows who they are) Also, if you still think it doesn't matter, because one day you're going to fly away to meet your lovey-dovey lord in the lovey-dovey clouds...your dumb *** will wonder why you are still here when the FIRST SEAL BREAKS There are 7 years soon to commence, it's called the Great Tribulation. All you lovey-dovey ***** Chunk "christians" will have an opportunity to PROVE that you REALLY ARE what you claim to be. ++++ Do you think you will survive? The coming Seven Years It's called the Tribulation, a time of and pain and tears - Chances are not good, that you'll live to see it through You'll probably be killed, your not the chosen few - You will greet the Antichrist, and you'll take his Mark This guarantees you'll burn in Hell, the warnings were so stark - For 1000 years you'll burn, before you stand before the Throne The Great White Throne of God, you He will disown - Then you'll be cast alive, into The Lake of Fire With all RELIGIOUS **** and every other liar
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41
you don't dare unwrap the real gift hidden under layers of hype too hard to discover it beneath mounds of plastic under the glare of neon falsities projected aimlessly scrolling away your soul Godless Yuletide   Christless Noel sterile feigned joy useless worthless feelgood frenzy sentimental superficiality televised consumer fables cute trendy on the screen market-driven fakeries of fake snow Mammon's medicated stress-fest passive-aggressive goodwill American commercialism angelic Antichrist malls of lost souls waiting for the next explosion trying hard to feel the warmth in the winter chill of hearts hardened against the Christ of Christmas unwrap the past to find the present in your sold-out future Christ is Lord
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Dec 24, 2016
Dec 24, 2016 at 3:41 PM UTC
Christless Present
my hands are red and there's a knife between my teeth holding my jaw in place because i never learned how to swim. i'm god, i'm immortal all-consuming and you laugh while you eat me alive there's red on your hands and a knife between my teeth i watch as you pull them out one by one swallow them like pills you taste like barbed wire fences, like eyelashes cutting my tongue they’re kind of like knives i leave clawmarks on everyone, there is blood everywhere everything about you is tangible and i think i’m the antichrist,im unholy and you’re a bible verse you taught me how to evolve there’s a drumbeat in my lungs and it’s all i have i’m in control, i promise, this is my game havent you figured it out yet?havent you solved the puzzle? sorry, sweetheart, i meant to tell you ages ago but-- they named a constellation after my fingers after the way they closed around your throat i will be buried alive and i will enjoy it six feet deep, what’s a coffin among friends, and i never loved you, i guess, and rip me apart you’re enough funeral for the both of us and you ask me with blood on your teeth if you're scaring me yet who's the monster now, like this is a game, and i'm ******* immortal, and rip me apart
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
crucially mechanized
۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞  ۞     When the Mahdi returns to smite Dajjal, When the Antichrist in his temple of lies is vanquished by lightning from God’s black skies as the shuddering stars blink, waver and fall, When JAH Rastafari, Lord Jesus (and Paul) With Isaac and Ismael – even Jibril Cash in on redemption and pay up the bill (no longer in discord, but harmonized all) – When the Jinn (and the tonik) have thrown in the towel as libations are served by the Heavenly Host, while Apollyon’s watchdog combusts with a howl and the demons and dhimmicrats give up the ghost – only then shall we learn not to entertain doubt. But until that apocalypse: vote the clowns out !
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
۩ End-Times Overload ۩
North Korea, Syria, Damascus and Iran Pieces of a puzzle, do you see the master plan? - Now it's Eastern Europe, Ukrainia to wit Thank the New World Order, peace they'll not permit - One World Government, Dictatorial control Hail! Hail! Big Brother! The Antichrist extol! - Blame everything on Israel, wipe them from the Earth It’s all their fault, it’s all their fault, all this pain and dearth - Forget about the Bible, just a Book of Myth Listen to the Aliens…their wisdom and their pith - Take the MARK! Take the MARK! In your forehead or right hand Burn in Hell forever, forget the Promise Land
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Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
Hail! Hail!! Big Brother
What has become of my lost brothers? Trimmareus, the insane voice of the sensual pig,      who fled from his blue mural      to the land of jazz and muffaletas      only to discover the senselessness of clothes... Peter, the pine tree apostle,      who paved the way to indifference      on a needle point, silently      prophesying the burning of Atlanta (in Atlanta)... Time Crisis, the first disciple of      the salt or pepper Antichrist,      who physically assaulted his mind      in an attempt to defy gravity,      finally settling for three      squares and a cot... Amante, the disturbed and uprooted lover,      who, by some accounts, fancied      urinating in the face of his      keepers. All of these brothers have fallen, cherub wings or no, and the meek are left behind in quiet speculation of our vain attempts to ***** out these small campfires of insurrection. We have taken the low road, carrying our hearts in wicker baskets and our monkeys on our backs, spitting and cursing about time love money *** school work life the safety bar money *** violence apathy love and time when we discover we do not have the ones we feel we need.           (do you want peace?) We cried over the death of the apostle knowing he had martyred himself for no particular reason, and after vilifying his role and path, attempted to follow his lead into the night regardless           (I make peace.) We vomited on the lover's dossier in response to repeated professions of innocence and conspiracy at the hands of the merciless system (created by sensuous hands). The outsiders can see the dragon, rising out of the depths and whispering our demise like sweet nothings in the ears of the desperate hopeful;           (Come and be free in my sunshine.) the beckoning of the crashing surf and the beauty of the half sun radiating and filtering our reservations into happiness at the acts we commit in its name           (Sacrifice to me your children's tongues and hearts,                send them away bleeding and crying.) We are the pure of heart in this sick land of Golgotha, where the rain is only the urination of our higher powers, the soap we cleanse our souls with and witness to others so that they too can enjoy this ancient bliss.           (Visit my website and see...)
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Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
Chrysalis
What has become of my lost brothers? Trimmareus, the insane voice of the sensual pig,      who fled from his blue mural      to the land of jazz and muffaletas      only to discover the senselessness of clothes... Peter, the pine tree apostle,      who paved the way to indifference      on a needle point, silently      prophesying the burning of Atlanta (in Atlanta)... Time Crisis, the first disciple of      the salt or pepper Antichrist,      who physically assaulted his mind      in an attempt to defy gravity,      finally settling for three      squares and a cot... Amante, the disturbed and uprooted lover,      who, by some accounts, fancied      urinating in the face of his      keepers. All of these brothers have fallen, cherub wings or no, and the meek are left behind in quiet speculation of our vain attempts to ***** out these small campfires of insurrection. We have taken the low road, carrying our hearts in wicker baskets and our monkeys on our backs, spitting and cursing about time love money *** school work life the safety bar money *** violence apathy love and time when we discover we do not have the ones we feel we need.           (do you want peace?) We cried over the death of the apostle knowing he had martyred himself for no particular reason, and after vilifying his role and path, attempted to follow his lead into the night regardless           (I make peace.) We vomited on the lover's dossier in response to repeated professions of innocence and conspiracy at the hands of the merciless system (created by sensuous hands). The outsiders can see the dragon, rising out of the depths and whispering our demise like sweet nothings in the ears of the desperate hopeful;           (Come and be free in my sunshine.) the beckoning of the crashing surf and the beauty of the half sun radiating and filtering our reservations into happiness at the acts we commit in its name           (Sacrifice to me your children's tongues and hearts,                send them away bleeding and crying.) We are the pure of heart in this sick land of Golgotha, where the rain is only the urination of our higher powers, the soap we cleanse our souls with and witness to others so that they too can enjoy this ancient bliss.           (Visit my website and see...)
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69
It was raining very torridly that day, The cold was so frigid here in Karnal. A pregnant lady was rushed to the hospital, The Antichrist was born that evening. Sceptic of old traditions the boy grew, Not feeling the justification of religion. Though I know about the good things in books, But still I am that irreligious man now. Always approving of the creator God, That almighty remains unquestionable. Not He Himself had dictated things to anybody, I denounce the need for money in faith.
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Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Two Days Before Christmas, 1990
You once shall meet me, In many forms come I. A creeping knife, an ominous pall, A particle in your dense sky. I play music, you see. But, this music isn't pleasant. It combines every element of malice. Chains and whips ravage your ****** drums, And I take you in. You fall to your knees, and your eyes burst from pressure. I keep playing mine tune on mine horrid instrument. The aria of the Antichrist is formed into a choir, of the demons and Malakai, Loki and Lucifer. The screeching is played too fast for your eardrums. They rupture. Suddenly, the crease of reality breaks. You are ****** into a shale-colored vortex, never to be again; listening to the wretched howl of the demons below. You once met me, In many forms came I. I felt pity for you, and played you a soft tune, But you only heard screeching while you died.
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Jun 17, 2010
Jun 17, 2010 at 6:29 PM UTC
Musician?
you're screaming at me--"b-b-b-b-b-b-o-n-e-s" death rattle of the century now the floor, now the eyes in the window, now the fridge door swung open gateway to paradise b-b-b-b-b-b-o-n-e-s ******* magnum opus stutter-screech blood blood blood in the streets (blood blood blood in your teeth, in your sheets ******* christ, i want to **** you") m-m-m-m-m-m-a-r-t-y-r complex you're cruel. now the casket wide open, now the eyes in the windows, now the showerhead, now you, framed portrait, you, "this isnt over," you, buzzing in my skull (b-b-b-b-b-b-o-n-e-s) quiet down. wasp nest lying at your feet bug, holy thing, germ ("this, this, this") now the bed, now the covers thrown back, now an empty casket. theres no grace in slaughterhouses no sweetness on the tip of a dead man's tongue-- ******* death of princes, i could devour you whole, i could eat the oyster-world raw. b-b-b-b-b-b-o-n-e-s and a note attached to a javelin. (and they'll say, "welcome to the end of the world")
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 2:44 PM UTC
eulogy for the antichrist
Time and Distance was always the recipe for disaster. These two little words can move mountains of hate. Merely shove them aside. They can do the same to love. Brush it off like a father will when his kids plead for him to at least look at the menu on the ice cream truck. Love does not fade as easily as we all wish it could. As you and I wish it would. Love is a tender flower that needs to be nurtured and be kept in a well lit, well watered garden. Hate does not fade as easily as we all wish it could. As you and I wish it would. Hate is a brutal **** that will grow in any garden. It will strangle love of the nutrients that so rightfully belong to it; the tender flower. Time is a killer, a stone cold killer. It some how manages to find love and destroy it. Time is the Antichrist. One thinks they can conquer it, when indeed, they cannot. Distance is an enzyme. Much like the ones found in the human stomach. As everyone knows enzymes are reaction specific. They can only help in one chemical reaction, one minute, tiny reaction. One thinks they can subdue distance, make it their friend, when indeed, they cannot.
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Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 8:44 PM UTC
Time and Distance.